


they told me that the end is near

by astralpenguin



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angel Newt, Bookshop Owner Newt, Established Relationship, Gender Neutral God, Good Omens AU, M/M, TMR Reverse Bang 2019, The Birth of the Antichrist, ben/gally was an accident, demon Thomas, my hand slipped it's not my fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 06:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralpenguin/pseuds/astralpenguin
Summary: Many would have you believe that angels and demons aren’t capable of feeling love, but this is untrue. They are just as capable as any other of God’s creationsIf you want proof, then look no further than these two





	they told me that the end is near

**Author's Note:**

> hi !!! there's a non-zero chance that this will become the first part of a series one day, but if that does happen it probably won't be for a while because life is busy and i already have a wip. but i have Ideas so stay tuned :eyes:
> 
> the art that goes with this fic is a playlist made by the amazing [jo,](https://jo-the-unknowable.tumblr.com/) which you can check out and listen to [here!!!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7K2jQFPYbY7ryrHoqUFOc2)

With a great sigh of relief, Newt turned the sign on the door so that the sign saying CLOSED was facing outwards.

A closed shop meant that there was no chance of any customers disturbing him.

He didn’t mind customers most of the time. He ran a bookshop. Customers coming in and buying books meant that he didn’t have to waste time miracling up the money to pay the rent and other bills, and usually they were decent people. They’d spend some time browsing the bestsellers, and maybe the local history section. Sometimes they’d have a question, which Newt would be more than happy to answer. Even if that answer was  _ ‘I’m sorry, we don’t stock anything like that, but here are a few places that might,’  _ because the sharing of stories and knowledge among the humans was more important to him than any profits he’d lose from sending them elsewhere.

In Newt’s opinion, the invention of the written word, which gave humanity the ability to share their thoughts so efficiently with one another, was one of the best things to happen in all 6000 years since God finished creating the world. 

The shop never got too busy, which was perfect. As much as Newt hoped that some humans could see it as a home from home of sorts, it was also  _ his _ home on Earth, and if it ever became too crowded, Newt knew that it would be stressful. He’d be able to handle it, that wasn’t in question. It was just the principle of having a large crowd of people in his shop at once that bothered him. But that never happened.

So why, then, was he so relieved to close the shop for the night?   
The reason was what was contained in the back room of the shop.

The back room, so called because the door to Newt’s own rooms (bedroom, kitchen, and a never-used bathroom) was in there, was home to Newt’s private collection of books and texts. 6000 years was a lot of time, and in that time he’d picked up a large amount. Having such a room dedicated to them was the whole reason why he’d opened the bookshop in the first place. There was, however, a slight flaw in this arrangement. The back room was open to the public along with the rest of the shop, and sometimes customers went in there.

Newt had learned to live with customers entering that room. Humans were naturally curious creatures - although they weren’t the most curious creature that Newt had come to know - and the sight of so many old books and scrolls usually caught their eye. The vast majority of people who found themselves in that room didn’t tend to spend very long in there. Many of the texts weren’t in a language that was easily understandable by the people who ended up in a small bookshop in Soho, London, in the early 21st century AD, and simply getting a closer look at what was there was enough to satisfy the curiosity of most.

But occasionally, someone would try to buy one.

Newt would retaliate by quoting an absurdly high price, or by informing them of the impossibly intricate care routines that the item in question needed to avoid degradation (all lies, the texts survived due to Newt’s miracles and no other reason), or by distracting them by the other, more replaceable, books that he had in stock, in the hopes that they’d either change their mind or forget about the item from the back room.

Sometimes he ended up having to sell one. Those were the worst sort of days.

Newt’s sigh of relief at the prospect of not having to deal with any more customers that day wasn’t because he’d had to sell a private book, but because he’d had to field three separate requests to buy one. All three people had thankfully been deterred by the high price, but that was a lot for just one day.

He was seriously considering not opening the shop the next day. He needed some time to recover.

He went to turn the lock on the door, but stopped when he heard a knock from the other side.

He looked up, and pulled the blinds that covered the windows in the doors to one side so that he could see through them.  
Standing on the other side of the door, smiling sheepishly, was Thomas.

Newt rolled his eyes and let him in.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“I thought you weren’t coming today.”

“If it helps, it was to pick this up?” said Thomas, holding up a bottle of whisky.

Newt shook his head, a smile on his face. “Ever heard of proper time management, Tommy?”

“Nope!” he said. “That’s one of your lot’s, nothing to do with me.”

“You know exactly what I meant,” said Newt, leaning in to take a better look at the whisky. Liking what he saw, he said, “Okay, you’re forgiven. Get the glasses while I finish locking up.”

“Where are the glasses again?” asked Thomas.

“If you can’t remember where they are after spending nearly every evening here for the last decade, then I really don’t know what to tell you.”

Thomas grinned, and went to get the glasses from the cupboard that he knew full well was where they were kept.

“So,” said Thomas as the two of them settled on a couch that resided somewhere near the biographies, “how was your day? You look tired.”

“Three separate people tried to buy something from the back room,” said Newt, bringing his glass to his lips.

“Ah,” said Thomas. “But only tried?”

“Somehow, nobody wanted to pay upwards of £1000 for a book that they wouldn’t even be able to read.”

Thomas nodded. “Sensible.” He had a sip of his drink, then said, “You know, you should really keep your books somewhere else.”

“Oh not this again.”

“I know, but this wouldn’t happen if they were somewhere away from public view. That way people wouldn’t learn about them, so won't be able to want to buy any.” He smiled. “Isn’t letting people know about something they can’t have supposed to be more my lot’s style?”

“It’s definitely  _ your _ style,” said Newt.

“Hey, the apple thing was a huge misunderstanding and you know it!” said Thomas, but there was no heat in his words. How they met was something they talked about and referenced often, and exchanges remarkably similar to this one had happened many times before.

Long term relationships mean that conversation topics will get repeated at some point, and nobody had a longer term relationship than Thomas and Newt.

“It’s not that you’re wrong,” said Newt, “or that I particularly disagree with you. It’s just that I like it here and moving everything now would be more effort than it’s worth. Usually it’s months between each time it happens, today was just a fluke.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” said Thomas. They were silent for a moment, then Thomas said, “Remember your collection of letters from Galileo?”

“Oh bloody hell Tommy, you’ve made your point, you don’t need to drive it in any more.”

“They were bought by an Italian guy, right?”

“Yes,” said Newt. “He worked at a university over there, and it took them embarrassingly long to realise what they had.”

“But they got there eventually!”

“Well,” said Newt. “They may have needed a little nudge.”

Thomas fell silent for a moment as Newt’s words sunk in. Newt took the opportunity to explain himself.

“I just figured that if they’re gonna have it then they might as well get what it’s worth out of it.”

“If you could make someone actually look at it, then couldn’t you get them to return it to you?”

Newt shrugged. “Possibly, but I don’t like the thought of doing that. I’d have to control them for longer than I’m comfortable with. Besides, annoying as it is, that guy bought it fair and square. All I did was make somebody actually read it.”

“Look at you, doing something nice for a change.”

“I’m an angel! Being nice is my job!”

“I know,” said Thomas, “I was teasing.”

“If either of us here needs calling out on not being great at their jobs, it’s you.”

“Hey now-”

“When was the last time you did something wicked, hm?”

Thomas went quiet, glancing upwards as he tried to think back.

“Well?” prompted Newt.

“I should get on that,” said Thomas.

“Yes,” said Newt. “You should.” He put his glass on the coffee table. “It would suck for both of us if you ended up getting reassigned to Russia or someplace because of poor performance.”

“Aww, would you miss me?”

“Of course I would,” he said, like it was obvious.

Which to them, it was.

Thomas nodded. He put his arm around Newt and pulled him in. “I’ll try not to get myself sent away. But you’ve got to do the same.”

Newt nodded. “I know. But even when I’m not doing anything big, I’m still helping people out with this place.”

“You’re doing an excellent job,” Thomas said, an earnest note in his voice. “You’re bringing so much light to the world that your bosses would never suspect you of consorting with a demon.”

“Do something evil and I might be able to say the same about you,” said Newt. “I mean, that your bosses wouldn’t realise you’re spending so much time with me, not that you were consorting with a demon. You  _ are _ a demon.”

Thomas laughed softly. “I know what you meant, don’t worry. But I get commendations for the most random things sometimes, I hardly even need to bother.”

“Have you got any in the past month?”

“I’ll think of something to do, don’t worry.”

“I can’t help but worry about you,” said Newt. “It comes with loving you.”

Thomas hugged Newt closer to him. “I love you too.”

Unfortunately for both parties, Thomas’ phone chose that moment to ring.

Muttering angrily, Thomas extracted himself from Newt, put his glass on the coffee table, and pulled his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

Newt sat back and watched the conversation unfold. He couldn’t hear what the person on the other end was saying, but judging by the way that Thomas’ face was darkening and his responses were becoming increasingly monosyllabic, it wasn’t anything good.

Before too long, Thomas pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up. He grabbed his glass off the coffee table and downed what remained of the whisky in there.

“I have to go,” he said. “Gally and Ben want to meet me.”

“Is it anything important?”

“Probably not,” said Thomas, “but I can’t risk missing these check-ins.” His eyes widened. “I don’t have anything to update them on!”

“Oh,” said Newt. He thought for a moment, and something occurred to him. “Do you need suggestions? Because I-"

“No, I’ve got it!” Thomas’ face lit up with his idea. “The phone network!”

Newt looked at him blankly.

“Think about it,” said Thomas. “People in London are constantly needing to call one another. If the phones went down now then not only would it take ages to fix, because it’s the evening now and the people who maintain it have probably all gone home, but it would cause disruption and piss a lot of people off! People’s evenings are ruined, they all take it out on each other, net positive for Hell!”

Newt nodded. “It’s not what I would’ve said, but it works.” He paused, then said, “No, wait, bad demon, how could you make such an evil plot?”

Thomas laughed. “There, now you’ve done your job. Also I wasn’t going to wait for you to suggest something, because the last time I asked for your input, you told me to kick a puppy.”

“I wasn’t being serious! And besides, isn’t that what demons do? They do evil things!”

“Yes, but I have my limits, and kicking puppies is way over the line!”

Thomas went to leave, but stopped when Newt cleared his throat.

“Yes?”

“The whisky?”

Thomas sighed. He stared at the open bottle, concentration clear on his face. Once the amount of liquid in the bottle has risen by what looked to be the same amount that Thomas had drunk, Thomas looked back up at Newt.

“Sorry,” said Newt. “I just don’t want you to get hurt because you were being reckless.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” He walked back over to Newt, grabbed his hand, and kissed it. “See you later.”

Newt squeezed Thomas’ hand once before letting it go. “Missing you already.”

  
  


Thomas and Newt first met at the Garden of Eden, and were immediately drawn to each other. Thomas was the demon who persuaded Eve to eat the apple of knowledge, and Newt was the angel who handed the exiled couple his own flaming sword so that they wouldn’t be immediately killed in the harsh world outside the garden.

Many would have you believe that angels and demons aren’t capable of feeling love, but this is untrue. They are just as capable as any other of God’s creations.

If you want proof, then look no further than these two.

They’d known each other for 6000 years. They spent the first 5000 doing their own thing, while occasionally running into each other and enjoying each other’s company when it happened. They then spent 200 with an agreement in place. They would take it in turns to do each other’s jobs if they were assigned to places close to each other, and would help each other out if they happened to be in the area. As a result, they started spending a lot more time with each other than they previously had, and by that 200 years’ end, they were able to acknowledge how important they had become to one another.

Their old agreement was still in place, but had become a lot looser as the years went by. Days spent entirely apart were rarer, and they freely admitted to each other the love that they felt.

But only to each other.

If Heaven or Hell were to discover the relationship that these two have built, everything they knew would crumble. No world-alteringly large declarations of love were allowed. They had to be so, so careful. To be able to survive, and to be able to be with each other, Newt and Thomas had to keep their love a secret from anyone who may betray them. Including, they were convinced, God Themself.

Dear Reader, God was not fooled.

They knew what They were doing.

  
  


The graveyard hadn’t seen any living humans in it for many hours.

The living tend to have a natural aversion to places of death, and that desire to stay away is especially felt at night, when visibility is lower. That’s when all the stories say that the monsters come out to do their own business. Even the most skeptical of humans has a tiny part of them that doesn’t want to take the risk that these stories might have an element of truth to them after all.

Of course, it was this phenomenon that allowed the stories to, in turn, become true. A place deserted of humans is the perfect place for the denizens of Hell to meet and discuss things that need to be kept private.

On that night, Thomas was the last of the three demons to arrive.

He’d driven the longest possible route from the bookshop to the graveyard as he could manage. Evenings with Newt may have been common, but the loss of one of them still stung, and the fact that it had been lost because he’d been called to a meeting only served to make it worse.

When he exited his car, the taller of the two figures waiting underneath the tree waved at him. Whether it was a wave of greeting, or just a simple  _ ‘we’re over here’, _ Thomas couldn’t entirely tell, but given that it had come from the taller one, Thomas was willing to bet that it was at least partially the former. Ben had always been kind, and privately Thomas thought that Hell was a poor fit for him. But Gally had fallen easily, so Ben had followed him down.

Thomas wasn’t the only demon in love, but Ben and Gally didn’t have to hide a thing.

As Thomas approached them, it became clearer that Gally was scowling. Not that Thomas needed to see him to be able to tell that. Thomas had only seen Gally with some expression that wasn’t a scowl on rare occasions, and they’d never been directed at him. Thomas didn’t particularly care that Gally had taken a dislike to him. Nobody ever said that demons had to like each other. So long as they did their jobs, they could scowl and hiss to their hearts’ content.

“You’re late,” said Gally.

“Sorry,” said Thomas, not feeling sorry at all. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Gally shook his head.

“How about we start this off by going over our recent deeds,” said Ben, cutting in before either Thomas or Gally could have a chance to turn their exchange into an argument. Arguments between demons could escalate quickly, so Thomas was grateful for his mediation.

Gally rolled his eyes, and began to speak. “I’ve corrupted a priest. He would’ve been a saint, but I made his eyes linger on a passerby and put doubt into his head. Within 30 years, he’ll be ours.”

“Good job!” said Ben. “I’ve corrupted a politician. I convinced him that accepting a tiny bribe in return for his vote on a small issue won’t cause anyone any harm. Within a year he’ll be ours for sure.”

They then turned and looked expectantly at Thomas.

“I’ve knocked out the phone network across London,” he said.

Nobody said anything for a few seconds.

“And?” said Gally.

“Think about it!” said Thomas. “People rely on that, now they can’t use it, they get annoyed, they take it out on each other, and everyone’s miserable and a little bit closer to hell.”

“So what you’re saying,” Ben said, slowly like he was figuring it out as he went, “is that instead of fully corrupting a single person, you’ve slightly corrupted a lot of people?”

“Yes!”

“So you haven’t condemned a single person?” added Gally.

Thomas opened his mouth to retaliate, but decided against it. While some demons appreciated Thomas’ approach to achieving their goals, Gally was decidedly not one of them. “It doesn’t matter,” said Thomas. “What’s this meeting about?”

“It’s very exciting!” said Ben.

“I still don’t see why  _ he  _ should get to do it, though,” said Gally, quietly enough that Thomas felt that he probably wasn’t meant to hear it.

Ben rolled his eyes and held something out towards Thomas.

Thomas looked down at it.

Held in Ben’s hand was a basket. A lid was hiding its contents from view, but a terrible certainty washed over Thomas at the sight of it.

Despite knowing the answer, he said, “What’s this?”

“This is our Lord’s child,” Ben replied. “And you’re the one who’s been chosen to deliver Him.”

“Yeah, annoying as it is,” said Gally. “But you’re the one with the most commendations right now with a base in the general area that He needs to go to, so congratulations! The job’s yours.”

“Right,” said Thomas. “And when exactly does He need to be delivered?”

“Tonight,” said Gally. “It’s been 6000 years, after all. It’s time.”

Thomas swallowed and took the basket from Ben.

“Well!” said Ben, smiling like he hadn’t just handed the Antichrist over to help set off the chain of events that would lead to the apocalypse. “I think that’s everything we needed from this meeting.”

“Where am I supposed to take Him?” asked Thomas.

“You’ll get those instructions separately,” said Ben. “Or that’s what I’m assuming, Brenda didn’t tell us where it’s happening so if we’re supposed to tell you, we can’t.”

“She said something about not trusting us not to crash the party,” said Gally.

“Nope,” said Ben, a small smile on his face. “She said she didn’t trust  _ you  _ not to crash it.”

Gally scowled at Ben, but unlike the ones usually directed at Thomas, there was affection evident in his eyes. “Today is a huge day and I’m not happy that I have to miss it.”

Ben just smiled back at him. “The real fireworks are 11 years away. We’ll just have to make sure we’re there for those.”

Gally nodded.

Thomas heard a click from behind him, and turned to see that the door to his car had opened on its own. Or at least, on what appeared to be its own.

He turned back towards Gally and Ben to see that they were already gone.

Left alone with just himself and the Antichrist, there was nothing for it but to get in the car.

  
  


While Thomas was being informed that he would have to help set up the apocalypse, Newt was checking through his emails.

There weren’t many. A few people were asking if certain books were in stock. There were also a handful of spam emails, which were an occupational hazard when your email address was publicly available, and he deleted them all without opening them.

There was also a single email from Sonya.

Sonya was another angel, one of the three others who’d been assigned to guard the Garden of Eden. The Guardian of the Western Gate. She and Newt had known each other for even longer than Newt had known Thomas.

She’d watched as Newt had lied to God’s face about the location of his sword. While God kept the fact that They knew that Newt was lying to Themself, Sonya did not. The moment that God withdrew from the area, Sonya called him out on it.

She thought it was hilarious, and they’d been best friends ever since.

Sonya was the only one that Newt had ever told about his relationship with Thomas.

She set up an email address for herself at roughly the same time that Newt did, and they often used it to communicate. It wasn’t uncommon for them to send the equivalent of several letters between each other a day, chatting about the world, their lives, and whatever else sprung to mind.

Once Newt had dealt with everything else in his inbox, he opened the email from Sonya. He read it through, and was just about to start typing a response when he heard a voice from close behind him.

“Such a lovely little place you have here.”

Newt scrambled to close the page before turning to see Janson browsing one of the bookshelves.

While angels like Sonya, who were kind and trustworthy and good to talk to, did exist, there were also angels at the other end of the spectrum. Janson was an archangel, one of the higher ranking angels, and quite frankly he was a dick.

But Newt couldn’t ever say that out loud.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

He threw on a smile, hoping that if it looked as fake as it felt then Janson would chalk it up to Newt not being able to use his body as smoothly as he would like rather than it actually being fake, and said, “Janson! I didn’t expect to see you today!”

Janson turned to face him. “Yes, well. Today is a very important day.”

Newt didn’t know of any reason why that would be so, but knew better than to ask Janson any questions.

Janson smiled. Newt didn’t like it. “I take it you’re unaware?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I’d have thought that all the time you spend personally foiling the plots of that demon, Thomas, you’d know what he was setting in motion?”

It didn’t seem like Janson had found out about the true nature of his and Thomas’ relationship. Every time Newt had to speak to Janson, and especially every time Thomas was brought up in conversation, Newt couldn’t help but feel a spark of fear that this was it and his time was up. But nothing about what Janson was  _ actually saying  _ implied that he knew the truth. So Newt did his best to take a discreet deep breath to steady himself, and said, “I know that Thomas was called to a meeting with two of his colleagues not too long ago. Whatever he’s doing now, he probably only just received the order.”

Newt left the conclusion that therefore there was no way he could have any idea what was happening unsaid. Janson could infer that for himself.

Janson stared Newt down. “Of course,” he said. “Anyway, I was just checking in, seeing how you were getting on down here.” He laughed. “I wouldn’t be able to stand this assignment, personally. How do you not get tired of all the humans?”

Newt had to stop himself from shrugging.

(Shrugging wasn’t a very angelic action and it  _ would  _ make Janson suspicious of him)

“I don’t mind the humans,” he said, which wasn’t a lie. “God made them in Their image.”

“Indeed,” said Janson. “Well, I need to be going. I’m very busy.”

Newt nodded, and in the next moment Janson was gone.

  
  


Thomas had received his instructions moments after getting in his car, and was now sitting outside of an unassuming convent, located on the edge of a village in Oxfordshire.

It was a convent of Satanic nuns, but you’d never guess that from the building itself.

The baby gurgled in the backseat.

Thomas reached back and pulled the basket onto his lap. He opened the lid and looked inside.

The child inside was small. His big blue eyes stared up at Thomas, and He stuck up an arm. Thomas reached in, and the child wrapped His fingers around Thomas’ thumb.

He seemed harmless. If Thomas didn’t know better, he’d be inclined to describe the baby as a little angel. Which from a certain perspective was true. Satan was once an angel, as were them all, so His child could possibly also be considered to be one. Maybe. 

But this child was destined to bring in the apocalypse.

He was about as far from an angel as you could get.

  
  


Thomas delivered the Antichrist to the convent, as he had been ordered to do.

However, the Satanic nuns inside the convent weren’t quite so good at following orders.

To cut what would otherwise be a very long story short, the child did not end up with the American politician’s wife that He was supposed to end up with, but with the couple from the nearby Oxfordshire village who were coincidentally having their first child at the convent that night as well.

This couple ignored all name suggestions that the nuns gave, instead going with the name that they’d already picked out for their son.

They named Him Charles.

  
  


Thomas tried to call Newt as he drove back to the bookshop, but the call couldn’t connect no matter how much he tried.

Obviously.

So he arrived back at Newt’s without being able to warn Newt about it at all.

“I thought you were gone for the night,” said Newt as he opened the shop door to let Thomas back in.

“They made me deliver the Antichrist.”

Newt said nothing. He just stared at Thomas.

“Not like  _ deliver  _ deliver,” Thomas clarified. “They gave me the baby and sent me to hand it over to the people who were giving it to the chosen family. But the Antichrist has been born and placed.” He found the whisky from earlier and poured himself a glass. “We have 11 years until the apocalypse happens.”

“Ah,” said Newt. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?”  
“Janson dropped by while you were out,” he said.

“The rat,” added Thomas.

Newt nodded. “He said that  _ something  _ was happening, but was sparse on the details.”

“Are you okay? I know Janson freaks you out.”

“Yeah, I’m good, don’t worry.” Newt said. He sat on the couch. “So this is it, huh?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I knew it was coming one day, but I didn’t realise we’d reached it already.”

“Newt,” Thomas started, “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the apocalypse to happen. I don’t want the world to be destroyed.”

“Neither do I, Tommy.” Newt poured some whisky for himself. “I like the world too, and I like humanity, and all of that. But if God planned for there to be an apocalypse, then that’s Their plan.”

Thomas put his glass on the coffee table and sat next to Newt. “The apocalypse would mean that your side and my side would fight, right?”

“Yes,” said Newt. “And good will triumph as it always eventually does.”

“Put the party line to one side and think about it.” Thomas took Newt’s hand. “If there’s a battle between Heaven and Hell, and one side wipes out the other, then regardless of which side ends up winning, at least one of us will be killed.”

Newt opened his mouth but no sound came out.

“I could go on about the books and everything else that would also be lost in the chaos but I don’t think I need to.”

“No,” said Newt. “You don’t. But what do you expect me to do? I can’t go against God! I’m an angel!”

“An angel that’s in love with a demon and has advised that demon to kick puppies in the past.”

“Wow, you suggest something one time and it’s suddenly all you’re ever known for.”

“My point,” said Thomas, allowing a small smile to make its way onto his face, “is that your  _ ‘I’m an angel!’ _ defense is kinda weak.”

“I can’t be seen to be explicitly going against God’s plan, even if I disagree with it.” said Newt. “I can’t even say that I disagree with it. This is because I’m an angel”

“That’s true,” said Thomas.

They both fell silent for a minute or so. Thomas thought desperately for anything that they could do to stop what was happening.

Then he had an idea.

“Say I did everything in my power to make absolutely sure that the antichrist grows up to cause the apocalypse,” said Thomas. He looked at Newt’s face to make sure he was listening, and took Newt’s apparent confusion as confirmation that he was. “Well,” he carried on, “you’re an angel. You’re supposed to stop demons from doing evil things. You’re supposed to foil their plans.”

Newt’s eyes lit up as understanding dawned. “So if you’re manipulating the kid to be evil, and I’m manipulating the kid to be good, then maybe the kid will just turn out normal?”

“That’s the hope,” said Thomas.

“Tommy that’s a brilliant idea!”

“I’ve been known to have them.”

Newt gently shoved Thomas’ shoulder. “So we’d basically be helping raise Him?”

“Yeah,” said Thomas, thinking back to the way that the tiny baby curled his fingers around his thumb. A warm feeling bubbled up in him as he said, “Yeah we would.”

“Look at us,” said Newt, a grin on his face. “We’re having a child out of wedlock, how naughty of us.”

Thomas laughed. “You’re such a bastard,” he said.

“But that’s why you love me!”

“It is,” he said. “I love you loads.”

“I love you too,” said Newt.

“Should we start figuring out how we’re gonna do this?” asked Thomas. “Like, the kid’s been given to the family of a high ranking American politician, if their security is anything like it should be then this isn’t gonna be easy at all.”

“Tommy,” said Newt. “We can perform miracles.”

“Oh,” he said. “Right.”

“Let’s worry about this in the morning, yeah?” said Newt. He stood and gently tugged on Thomas’ wrist to make him stand too. “You’ve done a lot of driving tonight, you must be tired. How about we head to bed?”

Thomas freed his wrist, brought his hand up to Newt’s face and cupped his cheek as he kissed him. He then pulled away just far enough to be able to speak, so when he did, they were still so close to each other that his lips brushed against Newt’s

“I’d love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> loads of thanks to [faia](https://faiasakura.tumblr.com/) for organising the reverse bang !!! she's been a fic writing / event organising machine recently and deserves so much love !!!


End file.
